


Standing in Reverence

by Dulcinea



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Bottom Vegeta (Dragon Ball), Fusion Effects, M/M, Mind Link, Minimal Prep, Outdoor Sex, Romance, Spit As Lube, Top Son Goku (Dragon Ball)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:49:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29576388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dulcinea/pseuds/Dulcinea
Summary: Vegeta changed since the fight with Buu, and Goku wasn’t sure where he stood with him anymore.
Relationships: Son Goku/Vegeta (Dragon Ball)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 80





	Standing in Reverence

**Author's Note:**

> For Basil. Happy birthday and I hope this lives up to your expectations!

Vegeta changed since the fight with Buu, and Goku wasn’t sure where he stood with him anymore. Their spars were fine, challenging and grueling and satisfying as only Vegeta could provide him. But Vegeta was different. Very, very different.

Maybe it was some sort of leftover remnants from the fusion of Vegito as to why and how Goku was able to tell something was ‘off,’ because the aura around the man was quite _weird._ Maybe it was the way Vegeta seemed to act less brash and rude around him and more stoic and quiet. Maybe it was the glances Vegeta sent his way, glances that Goku found were more than that—Vegeta was downright gawking at him, for a long time. 

But all of this was enough for Goku to stay vigilant and observe Vegeta’s actions from afar. Going the direct way with him was never the right call. He knew the man well enough now that it took cunning and patience to get through Vegeta’s walls. 

Vegeta _was_ rather good at testing his patience though. Today was no exception.

“Hey, watch it!” Goku yelled up at the sky where Vegeta hovered above, a shit-eating grin on his face. “You almost took out my eye with that one!”

“Then I suggest you move faster!”

“I _would_ but someone requested ‘no Instant Transmission’ today!”

“Your fault for honoring silly requests!” 

“ _Vegeta!!_ ”

A cackle and Goku dodged Vegeta’s next ki blast, the rocks he stood on before disintegrating into red dust. 

They met in mid-air, knees hitting knees, fists clashing with fists at a rapid pace beyond the capabilities of the human eye, but just right for their Saiyan ones. Even with the occasional dirty plays Vegeta broke out during spars, Goku still had fun. He smirked when Vegeta died, laughed when Vegeta did, shot back a sarcastic remark when Vegeta did, even though his verbal bite was nowhere near as strong as Vegeta’s. 

This thrill. This rush. Nothing in Otherworld compared to this. No other fighter he met gave him this challenge, this frustration, this sheer _joy._ Cut lips, superficial gashes, dirt and blood and sand and torn clothes—and Vegeta wasn’t letting up even once. He didn’t give Goku a single second to break whatsoever, because that was who Vegeta was: all in, never-ending energy, manifested by pride and strength of will, as deadly and consuming and mysterious as a supermassive black hole, and he didn’t care that Vegeta lured him in, because the event horizon awaiting him was worth it.

Goku crossed an X over his chest, blocking Vegeta’s next kick. 

Vegeta snarled, throwing a hard punch that Goku easily caught.

A blast of energy, and Vegeta flared up to Super Saiyan 2, a transformation Goku matched within a second.

They yelled as once, coming back to blows, the sounds of their bodies hitting flesh and bone ricocheting throughout the wasteland they regularly sparred in. From far away, Vegeta looked downright pissed, but when Vegeta was up close like he was now, Goku noticed he was anything but. He looked _alive._ Smirking like a devil, all fangs and narrowed eyes and golden flames. Even Goku noticed his cheeks aching from how much he himself was grinning this whole time. 

Glorious. Perfection. A fight he never wanted to end.

A person he never wanted to be without.

A person he truly missed.

The spar ended close to sunset. They sat side by side on a grassy mound, the only soft and lush spot in the entire wasteland. Between them, they shared a large jug of cold water, taking turns passing it from one to the other. 

Goku leaned back on his forearms, gazing out at the red-orange sunset out in the horizon. Sweat stuck to his chin, his forehead, staining every inch of his clothing. His whole body pulsed, not a single muscle free from pain and overexertion, and his blood _burned_ from the ache, a thick blanket of satisfaction flooding his senses and his body.

The air between the two of them felt as comfortable and relaxed as Goku did. Vegeta looked the same way too, sitting upright, his shoulders slightly rounded forward. Sweat dotted his neck, shoulders, the exposed skin of his upper shoulder blades. He held the water bottle between his outstretched legs in his gloved hand’s loose grip. A gentle breeze wisped through the wasteland, waving Vegeta’s hair like reeds at a pond, and Goku caught the tiny smile on his drenched face.

For once, Vegeta looked at peace.

_He’s beautiful._

Goku smiled at his runaway thought. 

Their fusion opened Goku up to a side of Vegeta he didn’t know. He understood so much more about him after. Whatever memories Vegeta harbored didn’t stay with Goku at all. But his feelings did. How Vegeta missed him the seven years he was gone. How angry he was. How lonely he felt. How excited he was to fight Goku again. The rage when he realized he wasn’t getting his deserved rematch because some other stupid all-powerful villain had to show up and wreck his plans. 

The hurt Vegeta felt when he knocked Goku out. The regret and the sorrow, when he blew himself up. The self-hatred and frustration and fear, when Kid Buu had him pinned under his boot, and Goku wasn’t throwing the Spirit Bomb. The elation and relief when it was all over. The admiration, respect and—it still floored him to think of it now—the _pride_ Vegeta had, for _him,_ that day. That moment. 

Goku knew it all, and he wasn’t going to tell Vegeta that. 

“Kakarot?”

“Hm?” He turned his attention fully onto Vegeta.

The bottle thrusted his way. 

Vegeta wasn’t looking at him. Only ahead.

The air between them changed, a small tension rising from the original relaxing atmosphere. 

Goku took the bottle and sat up, gulping down its clear, refreshing contents. 

Another gentle breeze. Vegeta’s hair moved perfectly in time with it, the profile of his tanned chiseled face and dark blue suit a perfect contrast to the greenery they sat on and the red-yellow wasteland that surrounded them.

He paused mid-gulp when Vegeta said, “I know.”

Goku slowly pulled the bottle away from his lips.

His gulp sounded too loud in the silence. 

Vegeta’s dark eyes reflected the sunset.

He didn’t dare look away when Vegeta continued, “I saw your thoughts. Your memories. I don’t remember most of the details—”

“Only the feelings.”

Goku suppressed his flinch when Vegeta snapped his head to him. 

The wind rustled the grass beneath them. Vegeta’s hair. His own hair. 

His heart pounded too hard against his chest. 

Without looking away, Goku closed the top of the water bottle and threw it off to the side.

“How long?” Goku asked.

“Since the fight.”

“Why tell me now?”

“I need to know—” Those eyes narrowed. “—just how _much_ you felt.”

His mind processed what he could remember. The fight on Otherworld. The fight on Earth as Vegito. Their fight when Vegeta turned Majin and the way Vegeta felt as he gave up his life. General feelings of anger and sadness over the seven years he was dead. A small taste of grief, underlying it all.

Goku confessed, “From the time I was dead to the day we defeated Buu for good.”

“Nothing else?”

He shook his head no.

“What about now?”

“Nothing. I can’t read what you’re feeling anymore.” He tilted his head. “Is that what you were wondering?”

“No, though it’s a relief you can’t read me any longer.” Vegeta smirked. “You should know I cannot do the same with you either.” 

“Then what?” He held back his next question of: _What don’t you want me to know?_

“Just curious,” Vegeta said, and he turned his attention away. He started to come to his feet—

Goku pushed him back down with his hand on top of Vegeta’s thigh. “It’s never that.” 

Vegeta snarled, “Kakarot—”

“I know you.”

“Release me.” 

“Nothing is ever that simple with you.”

A growl. Those eyes glared right at him, upper lip curling. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He squeezed Vegeta’s thigh with a strength he knew Vegeta could handle as he enunciated slowly, “Yes. I. Do.” 

“Really now?” Vegeta’s voice steadily rose with every question. “You think because of this stupid fusion we performed that you actually know me? You really think because you felt my feelings that you understand me better?” He saw nothing but fangs in Vegeta’s rueful smirk. “Fool. You know _nothing_. You were gone, Kakarot. For seven years, you weren’t here.” He shook his head no. “You don’t know anything about me.” 

A sudden tell-tale sparkle in Vegeta’s eyes. 

Goku’s lips slowly parted open. 

Vegeta jerked his gaze back to the sunset. 

He kept his attention only on Vegeta. 

Another gentle breeze. 

The sparkle in Vegeta’s eyes intensified over time. 

Something in Goku’s heart snapped in half and sank down somewhere to the pits of his stomach. 

He broke the silence with a whisper: “I hurt you.”

“Tch.” Vegeta rolled his eyes. “As if _you_ could hurt me.”

“I did. I left. I wasn’t here.” He swallowed against the lump in his throat. “You were the only Saiyan left.”

Vegeta’s sudden snap of, “Quiet, clown!” startled Goku, his hand involuntarily releasing Vegeta’s thigh. But he clamped it back down when he felt Vegeta start to shift around and get up. 

With a squeeze to the flesh, a squeeze stronger than the last, Goku leaned in closer and said right into Vegeta’s face, “I was the last link to our people. Our children are part of the new future, but you still needed something from your past.”

A blast of ki knocked Goku’s grip off. Vegeta sneered at him, nose to nose, “Get away from me.” 

He climbed to his feet the same time Vegeta did. “I’m not leaving you again.” 

Vegeta’s low ‘tch’ stabbed Goku like a ki blast to the heart. 

The anguish Vegeta felt for seven years. The rage. The hurt. The frustration and the anger and the need to be evil, to not be loved, to not have this kind heart, to not be deserving of this life, this world, these people—Goku’s vision blurred—to be wiped away from existence because at least then he’d do something good for once in his life—

One of his knees hit the ground before Vegeta turned completely away from him. 

His right hand landed over his heart. 

It turned into a fist for some reason, an instinct deep inside telling him to do this correctly, and he knew it was the right choice when he saw Vegeta’s eyes bug-out and his mouth dropped wide-open. 

He followed his heart, as he always did, looking right at Vegeta with his blurry vision the whole time. 

“I have wronged you,” he rasped out.

Vegeta snarled, his hands turning into fists by his sides. “You _dare_ mock me—”

“Never.” He shook his head no, a new type of energy running through him. Something that left him raw and open and it felt right. “I’m only giving you the respect you deserve from the last full-blooded Saiyan alive.”

Vegeta’s fists started to unfurl as he bowed his head to him, closing his eyes.

The words flowed out so easily once he started. 

“I am sorry for what I’ve done. I swear to never cause harm to our loved ones or to you ever again. I have dishonored the legacy of our people by staying away instead of fighting to my last breath. From now on, I pledge to protect our families, our friends and you with my life.” His breath turned erratic, his heart stuck in his throat. “The power I possess is yours to direct. The power I gain is yours to use. I am your weapon and your shield against all who threaten our well-deserved peace. Use me as you see fit, as penance for my wrong-doings.” 

He forced his head to tilt back up, forced his eyes to open back up. 

Vegeta looked right at him, slack-jawed, in awe. 

“This I swear…” Goku smiled. “Prince Vegeta.”

He didn’t flinch, didn’t divert his attention elsewhere, didn’t move at all as Vegeta closed the gap between them, his white boots crunching on the patch of grass. None of Vegeta’s questions phased him—“Why are you saying this? What is the meaning of all of this?” None of Vegeta’s pointing and flailing and accusatory words phased him. “You—you don’t know what the hell you’re doing! You were never on Planet Vegeta, you never asked me about our people—!” Not until Vegeta stood above him and shouted, “—you don’t care about being a Saiyan and you never have!”

“Then teach me!” 

All the anger on Vegeta’s face died in that instance. 

Goku barely found any control over his labored breathing, or his blurry vision, and it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter at all that his voice sounded wet and choked up when he said, “Teach me to be a good Saiyan, Prince Vegeta, and I promise I will learn. I swear it.”

From this close, he could see the trembles coursing through Vegeta’s frame. He could hear them in Vegeta’s breath. 

The sun kept setting, casting dark shadows in all the right places on his body and his face, and Goku loved the sight. The beauty of it. Of him. 

A chill ran through his body when Vegeta said, “Worship me.” Like someone of Vegeta’s caliber would do, Goku watched him in real time compose himself in a flash: shoulders back, head held high, proud and poised like royalty should be, looking down at Goku like he was a nothing, a nobody. “Worship your prince. Grovel at my feet and beg for your prince’s forgiveness.”

The dare in the command. The challenge. 

The smugness on Vegeta’s face. The certainty of his failure.

The faith Vegeta had in him being a liar. Of not following through. 

Goku slid his fist away from his heart, back to his side. 

Nothing in his life so far felt as satisfying as Vegeta’s gasp when he bent the other knee, sunk back into his heels and pressed his chest, forehead and palms down to the ground, right at Vegeta’s feet. 

Even with the dirt and the grass muffling his voice, he made sure Vegeta heard him loud and clear. 

“Forgive me, my prince.” His hot breath blew back onto his face. “Please allow me to worship you as you see fit, for I am yours and yours alone.” He took a deep breath, held it on the top, and on the exhale, he released his deepest want aloud, “I serve at the pleasure of the Prince of all Saiyans.”

A hand snatched up a good chunk of his hair, yanking him back to his knees in one fell swoop.

He gasped the very second lips devoured his.

All his senses of the world around him zeroed in to the immediate. The clash of teeth and tongue. Strong arm winding around his back, crushing his lungs. Gloved fingers releasing his hair, raking his through his scalp, all the way down to his neck. Heavy breathing, hot skin, saliva and Vegeta’s scent, Vegeta’s body, Vegeta’s moan rumbling against his chest—and Goku pulled the two of them down to the ground, flopping onto the grass in a heap of limbs.

Gloved hands dove into his gi top, ripping it apart in two. They slid up and over his collarbones and shoulders, shoving the material off, traveled up to the back of his neck and held his head in place, forcing him to take what Vegeta gave him. The power, the urgency, the need from Vegeta in taking what he wanted from Goku—this wasn’t right. This wasn’t what Vegeta asked for.

He pushed Vegeta onto his back, yanking the hands on his neck down to the ground, beside Vegeta’s hips. Those dark eyes glared right at him, an icy, dangerous glare that nearly unraveled Goku’s resolve. 

The hands under him jerked up, and Goku squeezed them harder, pinning them down more into the grass beside Vegeta’s hips.

That glare graduated into a full-on murderous look, accompanied by a furious sneer of, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

He released Vegeta’s wrists, moving fast before Vegeta retaliated in any capacity. That visceral mask of anger cracked just enough as he scooted down Vegeta’s body, all the way down to his crotch and the obvious tent there, without looking away once. 

His fingers hooked over the rim of Vegeta’s blue spandex pants.

Vegeta’s lips parted open at the same time his eyes widened.

Goku’s cheeks burned at the sensation of Vegeta’s twitching cock nudging his chin.

He smiled—a shy, little smile—as he took a long, deep breath.

His answer came out in a rush: “Worshiping my prince.”

A clean jerk down of Vegeta’s spandex, and Goku shut his eyes, sucking Vegeta’s hard cock right into his mouth. 

Hands dove back into his hair, jerking and pulling and twisting the locks with every bob of his head, every lick of his tongue, every suck and swallow of his throat. He let Vegeta guide his head, let him use his mouth as he wished, so he could seek his pleasure as fast and as soon as he wanted. But only for so long. Goku had a job to do, and he had to do it well.

He ran his palms up and down the top of Vegeta’s thrusting hips, his flexing quads, the deep V lines of his pelvis. Slurps and sucks and groans mixed together, creating a cacophony of sex that spurned Goku on to do more, to try more. None of this was in his wheelhouse, but he never gave up on a challenge. Not even one like this.

A sharp tug to his hair warned him without any words needed, and Goku ignored it, cupping Vegeta’s ass into his hands and lifting his lower body clear off the ground. 

Legs flopped over his shoulders. Those hips thrusted faster, bruising his mouth, choking his throat, and he held on, squeezing Vegeta’s ass, moving with him, saliva dripping down his chin, down to his chest. A few seconds later, hot liquid hit the back of his throat, and he automatically swallowed it all, humping the ground at the sound of Vegeta’s pithy cries and the way he clawed at his scalp until he finally slumped in Goku’s grasp, completely spent. 

He pulled off slow, very slow, savoring the taste of Vegeta’s dick, the warm sensitive flesh, the sharp buck of his slender hips and the small hiss he released into the cool air. His hands slid up Vegeta’s ass, right to his lower back, and his mouth soon followed, kissing up the treasure trail right to his belly button. 

From this close, he felt the rise and fall of Vegeta’s toned belly. A peek through his eyelashes, and he found sweat on the corners of Vegeta’s hip dents. He nuzzled the skin with his nose, going from one hip to the other, then back. 

Not once did Vegeta’s hands pull his hair. They stayed in place though, gloved fingers curled around, ready and prepared to yank him away should Goku cross a line somewhere. 

He went slow, keeping his focus right on the tanned body beneath him. He kissed his way up Vegeta’s clothed chest, a tasteless sensation with every kiss over his armor, right where his sternum would be. All the way up to his collarbones, and then his neck. A tilt to the left, his hands slipped away from Vegeta’s back to gently touch his shoulders, and Goku leaned in to gently press a tiny kiss on the underside of Vegeta’s chin. 

“My prince,” he whispered against his throat.

Goku smiled at the sound of Vegeta’s soft gasp, and the sight of his neck tensing and releasing. 

The hands in his hair finally let go. 

Gloved palms rested against his upper back.

Goku kissed the area again, his smile graduating into a soft grin when Vegeta shivered beneath him. 

He kissed it again, and again. Trailed more kisses up to that sharp jawline, shifting his weight so his body fully covered Vegeta’s, giving him easier access to more skin to worship. And he did. Kissing beside the earlobe. Beneath it. The other side. Kissing the shell of his ear. Kissing the sideburn. Kissing all the way along Vegeta’s hairline, up to his forehead, his hands leaving Vegeta’s shoulders to prop himself up, palms resting on the grass to frame Vegeta’s whole head. 

Against the widow’s peak, Goku whispered, “I am yours.” 

The hands on his upper back sunk right into his flesh. The brief flash of pain didn’t matter. 

He nuzzled Vegeta’s hairline with the tip of his nose. Kissed it. Nuzzled it again. Trailed kisses down the other side of his face as he whispered between each peck, “Whatever you wish. Whatever you desire. My prince comes first. Your pleasure—” He lingered the kiss next to Vegeta’s other ear. “—is my pleasure. Your wants are my wants. Tell me what to do. What you need.” Against Vegeta’s earlobe, he traced it with his lips, murmuring, “Even if you want me to stop.” 

The hands on his back twisted his flesh and his gi up in a tight bundle. Goku suppressed his wince, covering it up with another kiss to the shell of Vegeta’s other ear. 

Goku trailed his nose and lips down the other side of Vegeta’s neck, his arms trembling from being in this position for so long. 

Another murmur: “You matter,” and Vegeta’s hands brought more pain. 

Another whisper: “You do,” and Vegeta gasped, thrusting his bare cock up against his clothed own. 

At the base of that neck, he planted a lingering kiss there. He felt the rapid fast pulse underneath his lips. The smell of Vegeta’s sweat under his nose. 

One last kiss, in that exact same spot. 

Then he whispered, “You deserve to have me, however you want.”

His only warning was a primal _roar._

Hands yanked him off and down to the grass. Puffs of dirt and sand spurted out from the impact. Teeth sunk into his neck, a heavy body landed over his, and Goku moaned—a moan that bordered on a purr—his arms flopping to his sides, palms facing up, long legs spread and still. 

Clothing torn. Cool air on his exposed chest. Sharp teeth marked up his neck, his collarbones, his traps, his shoulders. Heavy panting. Animalistic snarls and growls. Teeth on his chest. Teeth sucked and bit and destroyed his nipples, making him sing a pained song with a smile on his face, his hips tilting up to Vegeta in offering. 

Gloved hands ripped away his pants, exposing his cock, and he cried out when that mouth left his neck, slithered down his body like a snake and swallowed up his dick with skilled ease. 

His fingers clawed at the grass, dirt caking his nails, his legs twitching and flailing with every lick, every suck, every bob of Vegeta’s head. His head whipped from one side to the other, his ass cheeks becoming as taut as the muscles in his legs and his arms. 

A loud ‘pop,’ and Vegeta’s mouth left his dick. 

Barely a second passed before tight heat and strong hips slammed down onto his cock.

He shouted, groaned, moaned, made noises he had no name for as Vegeta rode his cock. It took all of his strength to open his eyes, and he almost came at the sight he found. 

Vegeta, clothed from the waist up, leaning back and propping himself up with a gloved hand on Goku’s left thigh. His other gloveless hand jerked himself off, his head thrown back and to the side, lips twisted up in a snarl and a smile all in one. He moved with a grace that only someone like Vegeta could pull off. In control. Poised. Taking what he wanted when he wanted, simply because he could. 

Goku waited until Vegeta’s eyes opened and met his. Let Vegeta find his pleasure. Let Vegeta use him as he saw fit. 

The second Vegeta’s eyes found his, Goku whispered, “You’re beautiful.”

The reaction nearly made him come. Big, wide eyes. Parted lips. A look that spoke of incredulousness, of uncertainty. A little bit of wariness. 

His hips didn’t still at all. They slowed down some, but Vegeta kept riding him, kept jerking himself off. 

Underneath it all, Goku found the thing he knew laid beneath, deep down inside Vegeta’s soul, and he swallowed against the lump in his throat at the sight of it. 

Self-hatred. 

“You feel amazing,” he moaned, and he trembled when Vegeta moaned with him. “I love the way you fuck me,” and a jolt of pleasure shot up hi spine when Vegeta fucked himself faster on his dick, without looking away. Goku licked his lips, gasped out, “You are, I’m not in control, you are,” and Vegeta whined on top of his lungs, throwing his head back, moving his fist faster, his whole body faster, chasing an orgasm Goku could see was in his reach. 

His own pleasure mounted, but Goku pushed it back as best he could, his hands clawing at the grass beneath him. Sweat dripped down his face, into his mouth, over his chin, and none of it mattered compared to this. To Vegeta. To this moment. 

It hurt to hold back, a different type of pain from before. He wanted to thrust back, wanted to work Vegeta to his pleasure, give him what he was searching for, but Goku knew what he had to do in order to do that. What he had no problem performing for Vegeta. 

He waited again until Vegeta’s gaze met his, holding back his orgasm with gritted teeth and hisses of pain. 

When those hooded dark eyes met his, Goku begged, “Please let me touch you.”

His blood burned at the sight and the sound of Vegeta’s desperate whine of his name. “Kakarot!”

“Please, my prince.” It hurt to stay still. To breathe. “Let me pleasure you.” Heat everywhere. Unbearable heat. “Let me make you come. Let me make you feel good.”

“FUCK!” Vegeta collapsed forward onto his chest, forearms framing the sides of his head. “Do it!” Lips crushed his, hands dug into his hair and Vegeta snarled against his chin, “Just fuck me already!”

Goku growled, bending his knees and slamming his feet into the ground. Vegeta cried out, right into his face, right in front of him, and he kissed Vegeta quiet, his dirt-stained palms slapping onto Vegeta’s moving hips. 

Flesh slapping. Saliva mixing. Vegeta’s fingers—one gloved, one bare—tearing into his scalp, the sides of his neck, the back of his traps. Teeth sucking tongues. Teeth marking skin. Purple welts and green bruises, sweat and grunts and drawled-out moans that synced together in perfect harmony. 

Every thrust up, Vegeta slammed back down. Every kiss he attempted, Vegeta devoured his mouth first. He tightened his grip on Vegeta’s hips, fucked Vegeta faster and harder, and Vegeta tightened his ass rhythmically over his dick, moving just as fast with him. Every touch, every kiss, every part of this was a challenge, a fight, one that Vegeta wasn’t giving up at any point, and it drove Goku _crazy,_ his mind shutting down and his body reacting by need and instinct alone.

He flipped Vegeta onto his back in one fluid motion, tore his teeth and tongue into Vegeta’s mouth, pounding into his tight ass with a strength and a speed only Vegeta could handle, and not once did Vegeta give up. He snarled in his moans, he growled in his gasps, tearing away Goku’s mind and body piece by piece, until it became too much too quick and he abandoned reality with a primal _scream_ , right into Vegeta’s smirking mouth.

All he saw was white. All he felt was heat. 

All encompassing, consuming _pleasure_ , with Vegeta at the center of it all.

Harsh, labored breathing. Salty skin. 

Vegeta’s scent, up against his nose. 

Heat shot up against his belly. Ropes and ropes of it that made him shiver as much as Vegeta did below. 

Hair in his mouth. Skin. The taste of grass and dirt. 

His hips couldn’t stop moving. They kept pumping in and out of Vegeta, chasing pleasure in the tight wetness. Needing more. Needing Vegeta. 

Goku whimpered, “My prince.”

Soft lips kissed his cheek. A gloved hand cupped the back of his head. The bare one slid up and down the length of his spine. 

The rumble in Vegeta’s raw voice. “You have pleased me.” The satisfaction. “My Kakarot.”

His body finally relaxed at the sensation of Vegeta’s lips kissing his cheek. 

Consciousness came in and out. The constant gentle strokes and gentle kisses lulled Goku into a state of safe, comforting bliss. He didn’t know when he eventually pulled out of Vegeta, or when they cuddled each other, or who started the embrace. All he knew was Vegeta embraced him, Vegeta kissed him, Vegeta was still kissing him… and he wasn’t going anywhere. He was still there, in Goku’s arms, against Goku’s chest, purring pleased noises, tickling and stroking Goku’s spent body, and he wasn’t pulling away. He wasn’t hiding anymore. 

A strong, cool breeze prickled Goku’s naked skin, causing him to shiver all over and huddle around Vegeta’s warm frame. 

Against his chest, Vegeta chuckled and said, “I think it’s time we leave.” A gentle push to his pec, giving them a fraction of distance, and Goku glanced down to find Vegeta gazing up at him with a look he never thought he’d ever see: a look of absolute peace. “Take us home.”

He smiled, giving Vegeta a slight nod. “As you wish.”

That night, they slept together, naked, in Vegeta’s room at Capsule Corp, clean from a hot shower. Goku watched Vegeta sleep in his arms for a long moment, absorbing the sight of the man he swore to protect and love forever, before he too shut his eyes and succumbed to sleep. 


End file.
